My Twelve Fics of Christmas
by Gonzo76
Summary: Here is my humble offering for TheOriginalHufflepuff's excellent 12 Fics of Christmas challenge. Stories are in challenge word order...not chronological. Here be spoilers for DH and beyond. Updated...with fewer typos!
1. Dance

The young wizard always thought of himself as confident…although most who knew him would call him cocky instead. All his confidence, however, fled the moment his eyes met hers. The Great Hall was crowded with students, professors, and shining decorations, but he could spot her anywhere. For him, that vibrant red hair shone more brightly than any holiday tinsel or fairy light.

When his mates caught him staring in her direction once more, they elbowed him sharply.

"Why don't you just go over there already so she can turn you down…again?"

With an arrogant shrug of his shoulders, he walked away from their laughter and started across the floor. It was packed with couples and eagle-eyed chaperones, many of whom had not been quite convinced that Hogwarts was ready for another Yule Ball. Therefore, the young man had to make his way slowly to the girl in question.

When he finally reached her, he noted with some relief that the giggling group of Gryffindors who had surrounded her had left them in peace. Well, it was a relative peace. He could now see two sets of students…his mates and hers…watching with a mixture of amusement and apprehension.

Taking a deep breath, he tried his best to ignore them all and focus on the beautiful girl who now looked at him with a hint of annoyance on her face. He saw that the snowflakes that had been falling from the enchanted ceiling were now sparkling in her hair. That image swept away all the suave words and persuasive arguments he'd silently practiced during his trip across the room.

Instead, he simply held out his hand to her and whispered, "Please?"

With that single, hesitant question, all doubts left Lily's mind. She nodded and placed her hand in his, marveling at how well it fit, before he swept her onto the floor.

It took mere second for the murmurs to begin. The impossible…or perhaps just the improbable…had finally happened.

Lily Potter had actually accepted Scorpius Malfoy's offer to **dance**.

_Author's note: Here begins my take on the "12 Fics of Christmas." They're all post-war, and a few are even post-epilogue. I have been reading lots of these, so I hope I didn't inadvertently steal anyone else's ideas! Also, the only things I own here are the mistakes, so please don't sue me. Enjoy?_


	2. Mirror

The Potter living room looked as though it had somehow survived a major battle. Bits of paper, ribbons, and sweet wrappers blanketed the floor, and three young Potters lay somewhere in the mess. All had smiles of total contentment on their sleeping faces and the spoils of war still clutched in their hands. Harry considered them the victors.

With a yawn, he cleared some things off the sofa and dropped on it so he could watch his children a few moments before the clean up began. In his mind he replayed the enthusiasm with which James and Al had torn into their presents. Those miniature racing rooms had been a hit…even though the majority of family and friends said the boys weren't quite old enough yet. And, just as everyone had said, little Lily was more excited with the boxes than she had been with any of the treats Santa had brought. Harry smiled when he spotted the little girl, asleep near the tree with a stuffed phoenix snuggled in her arms.

Yes, it had been a wonderful morning, and Harry Potter thought to himself that he could not have been luckier.

He almost considered joining his children in a Christmas afternoon nap when his wife entered the room. Ginny had been putting the finishing touches on the pudding that her mother had _finally_ agreed to let her make for the Christmas dinner, and she had sent Harry to wake the children and straighten the living room.

Shaking her head with amusement, Ginny walked to her husband's side. "So this is an interesting way to clean."

"I thought the troops deserved a break."

In a mock stern voice, Ginny explained, "You do realize we have to be at my parents' in two hours with three neat and presentable children, a perfect Christmas pudding, and a present for every Weasley on the planet?"

When Harry only nodded, Ginny continued. "And while we're there, our three little angels will receive even more presents, many of which will make noise or emit large puffs of smoke?"

Even though he shuddered at the memory of Uncle George's gift from last year (_My First Potions Kit!),_ Harry nodded excitedly once more.

Ginny laughed quietly and allowed her husband to pull her onto his lap. She accused, "You love it just as much as the kids, don't you?"

His voice choked a bit with emotion when Harry replied, "Maybe even more."

Ginny touched her forehead to his and whispered, "I love you, Harry James Potter."

In that quiet moment, Harry's mind drifted to another Christmas…his first at Hogwarts. All at once, he finally understood what Dumbledore had tried to explain to him all those Christmases ago.

And Harry Potter knew that at this instant he would only see himself…just as he was…if he looked once more into that **mirror**.


	3. Surprise

The house buzzed with Christmas excitement, and it seemed that every Weasley friend and relation was somehow crammed into the confines of the Burrow's small living room. In the midst of all the chaos, Victoire Weasley sat with her numerous younger cousins, who were entertaining themselves at the moment by teasing thirteen-year-old Lily Potter about her new Hogwarts boyfriend.

Lily, however, was not quite as amused as her brothers and cousins at the whispers of "Lily Malfoy," so she looked desperately for a diversion. When she noticed a sparkle out of the corner of her eye, she reached over and grabbed Victoire's left hand.

"This ring is beautiful! Did you get it for Christmas?"

Too concerned by her own attempt to get the attention off herself, Lily didn't notice that both Teddy and Victoire had paled at her loud announcement. It appeared that Rose didn't either, as she took a good look at the ring and said, "Yeah, Vic. It's great…looks almost like an engagement ring."

A loud crash that must have involved a good portion of her grandmother's best china followed Rose's words. All eyes in the room went straight to Victoire who stood slowly on very shaky knees. She tried not to sigh with relief when she felt Teddy move to her side and place a reassuring arm around her waist.

Teddy looked nervously from Harry and Ginny to Fleur and Bill before he turned to his fiancé. "That went well, don't you think? Maybe we should go ahead and tell them about the baby, too."

Another crash almost drowned out Victoire's weak voice. "**Surprise**?"

_Author's note: Okay, so this one was fun to write, but I still don't own anything._


	4. Firewhisky

_Disclaimer: I still own nothing…_

Even though he was now a young man of 17, Teddy Lupin felt quite like a mischievous first year as he waited for his godfather. Glancing at the antique watch he'd received for his last birthday, he saw that it was nearly midnight. He knew Harry would be there soon, so he reached into a drawer and found the bottle hidden under a pile of socks. As he ran his finger across the familiar label, he couldn't help but remember when he and Harry had first begun this Christmas tradition.

On that night, six years before, Teddy had been home from his first term at Hogwarts. He was lying in bed with his head full of all the presents he'd hoped to get the next day. And while he was far too old to believe in Santa, he did expect a pretty big haul from his grandmother, his godfather, and all the honorary aunts and uncles who seemed to be everywhere he turned.

Teddy was still awake in anticipation of Christmas morning when he heard a muted pop and then a harsh whisper. "Teddy, it's me. It's Harry."

Adjusting his eyes to the dim light his godfather now produced from the tip of his wand, Teddy asked, "Harry? What're you doing here so late?"

Keeping his voice low, Harry replied, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

His eyes growing wide, Teddy leapt from his bed and dressed at top speed. In concession to the cold winter's night, he didn't even complain as Harry made him shrug into a heavy coat and gloves. In fact, he didn't even ask where he and Harry were going…though he desperately wanted to. Instead, he simply took his godfather's hand when the older wizard asked, "Can you side-along?"

In a stomach turning instant, Teddy found himself still holding his Harry's hand, but the scenery around them had changed. They now stood on a snowy hill outside Hogsmeade, and Teddy quickly recognized the place he'd heard about dozens of times, but had never seen up close: the Shrieking Shack.

Harry said nothing, but he began walking with one hand clutching Teddy's and the other carefully holding a parcel his godson hadn't yet noticed. They stopped, however, before they reached the ramshackle building. Kneeling down, he began clearing snow from a small monument Teddy had never seen or even heard of before. By the light of Harry's wand, he saw a beautiful sculpted stag, wolf, and dog. Looking more closely, he even saw a tiny rat by the stag's hooves.

Reverence and a hint of sadness were in Harry's voice as he spoke. ."I think it's time I showed you this…and maybe you can help me wish them a merry Christmas." At those words, Harry opened the parcel and produced a bottle. With his godson's help, he dumped the entire contents on the ground surrounding the statue. His voice was barely a whisper as he said, "Merry Christmas." Teddy placed a small gloved hand on the wolf's snout and then echoed his godfather's words.

In the years to come, Teddy looked forward to this Christmas ritual more than anything else during his holiday visits home, though he never told a soul. He'd once told Harry that it was just their secret…something that only the son of a Marauder would understand. Harry had smiled at that and then ruffled his hair, which had momentarily turned a rich brown flecked with gray.

This Christmas, his first since he'd become of age, Teddy was looking forward to it more than ever. As his watch struck midnight, he heard a muted pop. Smiling, he turned to his godfather and whispered, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

In his hand he held an unopened bottle of **firewhisky**.


	5. Heart

It was not necessarily a traditional Christmas, but Luna Lovegood was enjoying every minute of this adventure. Of course, she'd had invitations to spend the holidays with any number of friends. The Potters and the Weasleys had all asked her to visit. Even Neville Longbottom had offered her the chance to celebrate a Christmas at Hogwarts. But, no, she chose to spend this Christmas, the first without her father, doing something that he would have loved, something that would have made him proud.

Though the group was searching for mundane creatures, Luna knew she could sneak in some extra time for her more, well, extraordinary endeavors as they explored the snowy terrain. And while her colleagues were spending their Christmas mornings sleeping in or sleeping off excess holiday cheer, Luna found herself bundling up and heading out into blindingly white snow. A pad and pencil were tucked in her arms as she quietly made her way out of the campsite.

In a few moments, she found an accommodating boulder where she could sit and experience the world around her. If she was very quiet, she just knew that some fascinating creature would find its way to her. She simply had to wait and watch.

As she waited, the daydreams that often filled her mind somehow slipped onto the pages of her journal. She was so lost in her thoughts and her drawings that she didn't notice the man who had walked up behind her. Luna started when he touched her arm.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Ms. Lovegood. I didn't mean to intrude."

Luna instantly recognized the bespectacled man who now stood behind her. She'd come to respect the man's quiet but firm leadership, and she was quite impressed with his knowledge of all the creatures they'd met so far on their journey. She had not, however, shared with him some of her loftier goals for their current expedition and was not sure what such a learned man would think of some of her more extreme theories.

"It's no intrusion, Professor Scamander. In fact, I imagine I should be getting back to camp. I suppose I tend to wander a bit."

With those apologetic words, Luna made to close her journal…and was a little shocked when a gentle hand stopped her from doing so. His next words shocked her even more.  
"Have you seen one yet?"

Luna looked down at her own crude drawing of a beast she had only heard described by her father and other believers. When she shook her head no, the professor continued. "You should keep looking."

At her confused expression, he motioned towards the mountains and valleys that spread out all around them. "I can't possibly believe that we've discovered everything out there, nor do I think we ever will…but that can't stop us from trying, Ms. Lovegood."

When she finally found her voice, Luna whispered, "Thank you. And, call me Luna…please."

"You're welcome, Luna. I'm Rolf." With those words, the professor offered his arm and directed them both back towards the camp.

In that instant, Luna Lovegood knew that Rolf Scamander had just given her the best gift she'd ever received. He believed.

And though neither realized it at the time, she had just given him the best present he could ever even imagine. She gave him her **heart**.


	6. Patronus

The corridors of Hogwarts were eerily quiet as Neville Longbottom made his way towards his former Head of House's office. He supposed that most of the students had left on the morning train going home for the holidays. He himself had just gotten in from a South American herbology training and was headed to spend Christmas with his grandmother when he'd received the message from Professor McGonagall.

Neville wasn't sure if he should be nervous or intrigued by the summons, so he found himself experiencing a mixture of both as he approached the old wooden door. He raised his hand to knock just before he heard a brisk, "Enter, Mr. Longbottom."

'Nerves,' Neville thought ruefully, 'have apparently won the battle.' Feeling much like a frightened first year, he entered the room and took a seat when the professor motioned him into a chair.

"Mr. Longbottom, I know you are on your way to Augusta's, but the headmaster has asked me to speak with you as soon as possible."

For one moment…just an instant really, Neville could not help but wonder what Dumbledore could have possible wanted with him. Reality, however, settled in quickly enough, and Neville remembered that Professor McGonagall now reported to a new headmaster. He hoped in vain that she had not noticed his momentary lapse, and he nodded politely.

Minerva struggled to keep the amusement from her face as she began. "I understand from Professor Sprout that you have continued your herbology studies." Neville nodded once more, so the professor continued, "She still claims you as her best and brightest, Neville."

At this, his face flushed with both pride and embarrassment. He was focused so intently on willing the color away from his cheeks that he almost missed McGonagall's next words. "The professor wishes to retire at the end of next term, and it is her hope that you would agree to take on her position as professor."

Neville's head came up sharply in confusion. His stammered, "Me? Really?" did not befit the young man whom the wizarding world now considered a hero. In fact, Minerva was quite reminded of the young boy who was forever getting lost and misplacing that dratted toad of his.

Smiling indulgently, McGonagall replied, "Yes, Mr. Longbottom. You. In fact, both Professor Sprout and Headmaster Sinistra were quite adamant that you be offered the position, and being your Head of House, I was given the honor of asking you." She paused, gauging the young wizard's reaction. When she saw a shy smile spread across his face, she didn't both to hide her own. "I take it that is a yes?"

Words seemed to be beyond him at this point, so once more, Neville nodded. Smiling broadly, McGonagall stood. "Well then, welcome to Hogwarts, Professor Longbottom."

At that moment, Neville Longbottom knew he could have produced the world's strongest **patronus**.

Author's note: I still own nothing, and I've taken some liberties 'cause I dunno who the new headmaster was supposed to be (though I did read somewhere that it wasn't going to be McGonagall).


	7. Victory

Even though the table was full of friends and family, Arthur Weasley couldn't help but think of those who should be there but were not. And if the uncomfortable silence was any indication, he was correct in assuming that all the others felt the same way. Arthur knew they'd have to face it, this first Christmas after the war, but he never dreamed it would be this difficult.

Everyone was trying his best to keep things cheerful, of course, but as the holiday meal progressed, the conversation became more strained and the forced smiles faded a bit in the flickering candlelight. Even Arthur, who loved Christmas as much as…or possible more than any of them, couldn't help but be relieved when Molly began passing around cups of tea, mugs of butterberr, or glasses of firewhisky at the end of the feast. Staring into the amber colored liquid in his own class, he almost missed when George stood, raised his mug, and said in a quiet, yet strong voice, "To Fred."

If possible, the room went even more still, but the silence was broken when Charlie joined his brother and added, "To Nymphadora Tonks."

Harry's voice was steady when he quickly added, "And Remus Lupin."

Ginny's hand reached for Harry's as she stood. "To Colin Creevy."

In the next few moments, the voices became stronger and clearer as others were remembered. When the room finally became silent once more, Arthur looked around the room into the faces of those who mattered the most to him in this world. Locking eyes with his oldest son and his wife, who'd actually had a private moment with him and Molly earlier to share some special news, Arthur's thoughts moved from the past to the promise of the future. He was the last to stand and raise his glass.

"To **victory**."

_Author's note: Okay, so this one was hard to write, too. And I still don't own the characters._


	8. Photograph

Amid a flurry of owls that carried holiday greetings, party invitations, and Christmas gifts, a single envelope was delivered to the Potter household by a Muggle mailman. After Ginny closed the front door, she puzzled over the return address. When recognition set in, she considered just for a moment getting rid of the envelope before Harry got home. She so wanted this Christmas, their first as man and wife, to be perfect, and she was afraid that whatever was in this letter would take away some of her husband's joy.

Sighing, Ginny placed the envelope on the kitchen table with all the other deliveries and went back to her Christmas cookies. She'd almost forgotten about it when she heard the tell-tale pop of Harry apparating from the Ministry. She protested when he grabbed her around the waist, but then she greeted him with a rather exuberant welcome home kiss.

Moments later they were both laughing, and Ginny was trying to dust some of the flour from Harry's robes. Harry's laughter faded, however, when he spotted the plain stamped envelope.

"This came today, then?"

Ginny worked to keep her voice even and pleasant as she replied, "The postman was quite amused. He seemed to think this house was vacant."

Harry only nodded as he slit the envelope open. A short note fell out first.

_Dear Harry,_

_I found these in the bottom of a box that mum had shipped to me when I moved into my new place. I thought you might want them. Hope you are well. Merry Christmas._

_Dudley_

Reading over her husband's shoulder, Ginny asked, "That's your cousin, right? I met him at our wedding."

Harry smiled a bit at the memory of Dudley Dursley attending a full wizarding wedding. He became more somber when a thin stack of pictures fell from the envelope into his waiting hand.

On top was a young Lily Evans wearing a very pretty dress as she looked up adoringly at her older sister. The next was a slightly older Lily wearing shiny new robes and sitting on what Harry guessed was her very own Hogwarts trunk.

It was the last picture that made both Harry and Ginny catch their breath. On the back, in faded girlish handwriting, were these words: _Me and Sev with our Hogwarts letters_.

Harry felt Ginny's arms go around him as he turned the photo over. Even though the picture showed signs of age, both could see the excitement and youthful promise on the two children's faces.

With a look of apology, Harry touched his forehead to Ginny's. "I need to…"

She stopped him. "I know."

"I'll be back soon."

When Ginny nodded, Harry took a pinch of floo powder from the jar on the shelf and threw it into the flames. In a clear voice, he said, "Hogwarts," but in his head he wondered how in the world Snape's portrait would react to this **photograph**.

_Author's note: I still own nothing, and I have to admit that this one isn't my favorite. I kind of wrote myself into a corner, so to speak, having the last word in the story be the challenge word. Oh, well…_


	9. Quaffle

With a frustrated sigh, the young wizard started tossing clothes and other belongings into his trunk. If he wasn't quick about it, he would miss the carriages to the station. For just an instant, he thought about staying at the castle with the few who were remaining for the holidays. 'And if I did that,' he thought, 'both mum and Grandmum Weasley would kill me.'

It was not easy being Harry Potter's son, and James felt like he was the only person in the world who knew it. Oh, Al might have some idea someday, but right now James felt the entire burden on his shoulders. He was the one who'd just finished his first term at Hogwarts, wasn't he? He was the one that everyone looked at with a mixture of envy and expectation.

They all figured he'd be brave, of course, and James was actually okay with that. He considered himself worthy of the Gryffindor name, and he'd been told by Professor Longbottom (after a rather hairy incident in the depths the Forbidden Forest) that he'd inherited his father's and uncles' sense of adventure.

Most of the professors expected him to be pretty clever, as well. This wasn't too difficult as his Aunt Hermione had helped him prepare before coming to Hogwarts. (Though James would never, ever admit it, he'd actually liked reading _Hogwarts: A Revised History_.)

No, neither of these expectations concerned James too horribly much. He felt he could handle them. But…there was one thing he was a bit concerned about. James Sirius Potter didn't like Quidditch.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. He did enjoy cheering on the Cannons with his Uncle Ron, but he didn't like playing the game.

No, that wasn't really it, either. James loved the informal games he and his cousins would play in the paddock behind the Burrow.

It's just that he wasn't, well, he wasn't very good at it.

He was the first son of the man who many considered to be the best Seeker in Hogwarts history and the woman who'd helped lead the Harpies to their first Cup victory, and he just couldn't seem to play the game even as well as his cousin Rose…and she was a year younger. And a girl!

With disgust, James slammed his trunk shut and prepared to drag it down the dormitory steps. He was almost at the door when he heard a peck at his window. James let the regal brown owl in and gave him a treat before he took the small note off its leg. Recognizing his father's scrawled handwriting, James couldn't stop a smile as he tore open the envelope.

_Dear James,_

_I know we'll be seeing you soon, but I wanted to write you once more time before you left for home. I hope you have a good trip…and please try not to get into too much trouble on the train. (And, for your mother's sake, don't stuff yourself too much with the food from the trolley. She and your grandmother have been baking your favorites for days!)_

_And one more thing before you come home. I just wanted to say, in case I haven't said it enough, I couldn't be prouder of you, son. See you soon._

_Love,_

_Dad_

James read the note through two more times before he folded it carefully and put it with all the other letters and notes he'd received from his parents so far. The stack was rather tall, and James knew that each line was full of love.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't so bad being Harry Potter's son.

'Maybe,' he thought, 'Mum and Dad will help me practice while I'm home.'

With a quick movement, he flipped open the lid of his trunk and threw in a **quaffle**.

_Author's note: I still own nothing. Very sad._


	10. Phoenix

When the last holiday well-wishers said their final goodbyes, the barkeeper closed the door behind them with a grimace. In the years since the final battle at Hogwarts, it seemed the Hog's Head was constantly full of Hogwarts students past and present. And, quite frankly, the old man wasn't quite sure how he felt about that.

Oh, it was all fine and well for them to come in and pay for a drink or two, but he didn't really enjoy the reminiscences he overheard or the gratitude he felt from so many of them. No, Aberforth Dumbledore was too well used to having things quiet, and he didn't really appreciate how things had changed.

The brightly lit tree in the corner of the grubby bar was yet another change, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it either. It had shown up that first Christmas after the final battle, though no one evet took credit. (Some said George Weasley magicked it in, and others claimed it was brought in by Harry Potter himself.) Little additions were made to it every year, and it had become yet another post-war holiday tradition.

Among its branches was now a tiny bludger that would occasionally emit puffs of smoke or bawdy comments at passersby, a shaggy black dog that enjoyed hiding amongst the fairy lights, a muggle camera that often clicked with a bright flash, and a doe and stag that never seemed to be too far from one another. There was even a bubblegum pink Christmas ball that tended to bump into all the other ornaments on a regular basis…though it always calmed down when it was near the quiet brown wolf.

Aberforth ignored the tree, as he often tried to do, but on this Christmas Eve he saw a small package left below its branches. With a sigh, he wondered who had left their present behind. It took a moment for him to realize it was his own name scribbled on the tag. After a few minutes of hesitation, he opened the box and lifted a new ornament out of layers of tissue.

He didn't notice the shy smile of the girl in the painting over the mantle as he debated with himself what he should do with the fragile thing, nor did he notice how that smile broadened as he gently placed the ornament on the tree.

Shaking his head, Aberforth decided he'd had enough Christmas cheer…and memories…for one night. He headed towards his room, but as he reached the foot of the stairs, he turned for one last look at the tree. Even in the darkness, one tiny decoration shone brightly and caught his eye…a **phoenix**.


	11. Kiss

Usually, Ron Wealsey loved Christmas. The presents were amazing. (Though he always complained, he even appreciated the maroon sweater his mother inevitably knitted for him every single year.) The food was outstanding. (During the holidays, no one ever complained if you ate too much or too loudly!) The company was excellent. (The holidays were one time of year when it was a benefit if you came from a large family.)

This year, however, Ron was miserable, and the source of his misery came in the form of the girlish squeals that erupted from the now cleared dinner table. Silvery blonde, curly brown, and vibrant red heads were bent over the mound of books, planners, and samples that lie on the table. Each of them was giving her opinion on the most flattering styles for the wedding dress, the colors of the flowers, and even the most popular honeymoon spots.

Ron didn't want to think of dresses and flowers…and definitely not honeymoons…as he knew all these things were being planned for his baby sister. Yes, it was finally official: Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter were getting married.

And between the holidays and wedding details, his mother was in a planning frenzy. The Burrow was full of dress patterns and fabric swatches and menu ideas and cake samples. (Okay, so he didn't so much mind the cake samples.) All of it, quite frankly, made Ron queasy.

When he realized that he was no longer following Percy's latest rant about the newly proposed wand regulations, Ron gave his dad a pained grimace and stood. Before he knew what he was doing, he was hovering over Hermione's shoulder. He _almost _felt sorry for Harry who sat there with a slightly frightened look on his face nodding at each of the women's suggestions.

Then Ron looked down at the table and literally became lost in a sea of lace and silk…and what were those? Bewitched cocktail napkins?!

With a disgusted snort, he leaned down and whispered, "When we get married, Hermione, we won't have to do all this, will we?"

It's quite amazing how a single whisper can carry even in a crowded, noisy room. Ron, however, didn't notice that all other conversation and movement in the room had stopped. Instead, he could only look into Hermione's eyes as he realized what he'd just said.

"Ronald, did you just… I mean, do you really want to…" Hermione's words trailed off and she simply stared at Ron, who was now muttering to himself.

"This isn't how I intended to do this."

With those words, he produced a small velvet box from his pocket. He didn't notice his mother's muffled tears or the proud smiles on his brothers' faces as he opened the lid. He only saw Hermione. "So, will you?"

Still unable to find her voice, Hermione answered him with a **kiss**.


	12. All Was Well

While many portraits considered their existence to be a boring one, Albus Dumbledore knew that this was not so in the headmaster's office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In the past…oh, he'd long stopped counting…years, Albus had seen any number of faces, familiar and otherwise, come through those doors. There always seemed to be professors and students who needed discipline or encouragement.

There were quiet times, of course, when the numerous former headmasters snoozed or chatted amongst themselves. This day, however, was not a quiet one. A hum of excitement filled the room, and all the portraits buzzed with speculation over what the next Hogwarts Headmaster would bring to the position.

Some scoffed at the youthfulness of the new man…he was only in his 60s, for Merlin's sake! Others wondered aloud if it was wise to have a Slytherin as Hogwarts head. (A sallow-faced, hook nosed man gave a derisive snort at that opinion.) And still more wondered if it was best to introduce a new headmaster during the winter holidays. (The most recent head's untimely death had left the position filled by the capable deputy headmistress during most of the school's first term. The board, however, had been so excited that its chosen candidate had agreed to the position that they wished him to start as soon as possible.)

Albus took no part in this discussion. He simply waited serenely in his portrait to welcome the new headmaster. When the door creaked slowly open, he knew he wouldn't have to wait much longer.

The wizard walked tentatively in the room…where he was met by a standing ovation from all, or at least most, of the previous headmasters. Albus noted with pleasure that a glint of pride and maybe even a hint of embarrassment filled the bright green eyes of the man who came further into the room and spoke a few quiet words of gratitude.

With a single wave of his wand, the new headmaster filled the room with light and a good number of personal touches. Dumbeldore approved of the décor, and he didn't stop his own smile as he noted the numerous framed family photos that now graced the sturdy desk in the center of the room.

He then dared a curious look into a neighboring portrait. He could have sworn he saw a smile on the face of the greasy haired man who was staring out at a well used, but properly cared for potions supply.

'Time does indeed change things,' Albus thought.

Clearing his throat, he spoke aloud for the first time. "Welcome, Headmaster Potter. We are very pleased and humbled to have you here."

Albus Severus Potter nodded reverently to the wizard and then turned towards another familiar portrait. Again he bowed his head in deference, and he was almost surprised when the man returned the courtesy.

This time, Dumbledore was sure he'd seen smiles on both wizards' faces. With a satisfied sigh, he lowered himself into the overstuffed chair that had been so conveniently painted at his side. He would rest now. Hogwarts was in good hands.

All was well.

_Author's LAST note: Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed. I still own nothing but the mistakes. Let me know what you think!_


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